


pieced together incomplete

by SiriCerasi



Series: this war's not over [6]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Episode Tag, F/M, Feelings, In which Audrey's mind is disturbingly chaotic and obscenely ordered all at once, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriCerasi/pseuds/SiriCerasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Post 3.07 "Magic Hour Part 1") Her throat closes over and she can’t speak, just presses her lips to his forehead, hovers there a moment before pulling back. And sits there until she can speak, because these words are important. These words are more than just incomprehensible letters strung together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pieced together incomplete

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers:** MAJOR spoilers for 3.07 (Magic Hour Part 1)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for my prompt "abandonment issues" & "wildcard (death)"
> 
> I have absolutely no idea what this is, I wrote it all randomly in one sitting as a tag for 3.07 because I have a lot of Feelings about this stupid show. And this song. Honestly, I don't even know.
> 
> If you've never heard "[... But Home Is Nowhere / Spoken Word / This Time Imperfect](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpG0ecemf2I)", I highly recommend you listen. It's just the right blend of haunting and beautiful and desperate and hopeful for Haven.

 

 

***

  
_twenty-six years and seems like i've just begun_  
 _to understand my, my intimate is no one_

  
_this is my line, this is eternal_  
 _how did i ever end up here?_  
 _ungranted in dead time left me disowned_  
 _to this nature, so unnatural_  
 _i remain alone_  
 _twenty-six years end, still speaking in these tongues_  
 _such revelations while understood by no one_

***

 

She’d had hope, for a brief moment, that things were going to be okay.

 

Nathan had joked with her, about Duke going to Colorado. With that small smile she loves so much, raised eyebrows and blatant disregard for Duke’s presence. _Take care of her_ , he’d said, and it’s almost hilarious now because she’s the one left behind and he’s dead on the ground, two bullets in his chest and his blood spilling out on the grass and this is why she’d pushed him away, why she’d tried so hard to keep him safe and _none of it had mattered_.

 

Because Nathan. Nathan is dead.

 

Strange noises split the air, a keening wail she realizes is her own. She hears Duke speaking but his words won’t coalesce into comprehensible phrases, just random syllables her ears can’t understand. She doesn’t want to understand. This isn’t real, it _can’t_ be real, and if she can just keep Duke’s words away it never has to be.

 

An iron grip on her arms eventually breaks her away, tears her from Nathan’s body and she could swear there’s a pop, a crack, a sudden _moment_ when reality comes crashing back in and it’s all she do to ball her fists in Duke’s shirt and sob, gasp for air but there is none, only a dead weight in her chest.

 

Nathan is dead.

 

Duke’s arms around her are the only thing keeping her upright, as her body goes limp and her muscles collapse because really, what’s the point? All of this, everything, she’d done for Nathan. To _stay_ for Nathan. Without him, it means nothing. Without him she’s just a shell, pumped full of a stranger’s memories once every 27 years and then drained again, put on ice for the duration. Nathan gave her _life_ , hope, purpose, _love_ , and without that – without that she’s nothing. Just a mindless tool against the Troubles.

 

She’s vaguely aware of the ground meandering up to meet her as Duke sets her down, hands on her face and shouting her name. One of her names. None of them are really hers. Audrey only meant anything because it came from Nathan’s lips, and now it’s just a dead collection of letters. She tries to remember the last time she’d heard him say it, realizes their last phone call had been all business about that stupid girl and-

 

And just like that, she’s back.

 

“Noelle,” she states, blinking Duke’s face into focus. “We need to find Noelle.”

 

 

***

_i cannot leave here, i cannot stay_  
 _forever haunted, more than afraid_  
 _asphyxiate on words i would say_

***

 

Finding Moira proves easier, because Duke spots her in the trees, touches Nathan’s blood and has her on the ground a few moments later.

 

And then it gets complicated, because Audrey won’t leave Nathan and Duke won’t leave Audrey so they end up carrying Nathan inside together, with Tommy bringing Moira in behind them. On the couch, covered in a blanket, Nathan could almost be sleeping. It takes everything Audrey has not to break down right there, to lock her knees and stay standing. Breathing. Duke touches her arm, pulls her gently away to the other room where Moira is seated on another couch.

 

“Leave me with her,” Audrey states. Duke gives her a long look, nods, and walks out, herding Tommy before him.

 

Audrey pulls out her gun.

 

Moira’s eyes widen a little. “You’re not gonna shoot me,” she says incredulously. Audrey’s fingers click the safety off all on their own. “You’re a cop!”

 

“You have no idea what I am.” The voice is hers (or Lucy’s, or Sarah’s) but she has no idea what she’s saying, what she’s doing.

 

Moira looks away for half a second. “I know what happened to your friend,” she says in a low voice. “If you let me and my sister go, I’ll tell you.”

 

Then there’s a bullet in the couch beside her head and Audrey’s gun is smoking and her brain catches up half a second later, just in time to hear Claire’s voice scream her name.

 

When the hell did _she_ get here?

 

Audrey drops her arms, walks from the room shaking. Claire just stares at her for a moment, glances at Moira, murmurs, “Audrey-”

 

“Don’t.” Audrey stares at the floor, studies her shoes. Duke must’ve called her, she realizes. Some backup. “Don’t, Claire. I am barely…” Her breath catches and Claire touches her wrist gently.

 

“Okay,” the therapist says softly. “What do you need from me?”

 

Audrey closes her eyes. “Keep me together,” she whispers, her voice doing that thing again where she has no idea what it’s saying. “Help me break her.” Claire’s fingers tighten on her wrist insistently, and Audrey looks down to realize she’s still holding her gun.

 

“Right,” she mumbles. Places it on a table. “Okay.”

 

She can practically feel the concern radiating off the other woman, but Claire just states, “From what I could tell the past few days, Moira’s been murdering rich individuals and forcing her sister to resurrect them for ransom. I pulled both their files; their mother died giving birth to Noelle, and they lived with their father until he died while they were still kids. They bounced around foster homes for awhile. Noelle’s boyfriend said Moira blames Noelle for letting their father die. She’s…” Claire shrugs a little. “I haven’t met her, but from what I can tell she’s bitter, angry – but not Troubled. And probably jealous that Noelle is.”

 

Audrey forces her brain to focus. “I thought Troubles ran in families?”

 

“They do, but there’s no… no rulebook. Maybe it’s more like genetics, I don’t know. But it seems like Moira was the one orchestrating everything and Noelle was just her… her tool.”

 

Audrey’s stomach turns at that, her rage runs rampant again. Claire grabs her arm as she starts into the room, turning her back. “Audrey.” Every time someone says that name she feels her control crack a little more.

 

“I’m fine,” she grits, finally meeting Claire’s gaze. “Or I will be, once I find Noelle. I need to do this, _please_.”

 

Claire sighs. “Okay fine. Go. But we are having a really long session when this is over.” Audrey doesn’t even have the energy or focus to roll her eyes.

 

Moira looks mildly annoyed at her return, but not nearly as scared as she should for a woman who almost got shot. Audrey sits across from her. “I need to know where your sister is,” Audrey states. Moira raises an eyebrow.

 

“You just nearly shot me, and now you want my help?”

 

“You’re not really in a position to refuse me.” Moira just glares. “You know your sister’s hurt,” Audrey continues, and the other woman’s head snaps up. “We found her blood outside the cabin. If you don’t help us find her, she could die.” _And so could Nathan._ She shuts the thought down, but it refuses to die completely. They’re running out of time.

 

Audrey leans forward, rests her elbows on her knees. “You know, I’ve been working with the Troubles for awhile,” she tells Moira. “And from what I’ve seen, they usually run in families. Met three sisters who were all wendigos. So maybe I don’t need to find Noelle at all, maybe I could just use you to bring Nathan back.”

 

Moira’s eyes flare. “You can’t,” she spits. “I’m not Troubled.” Audrey nods.

 

“I figure that’s why you use Noelle. Can’t ransom these people all on your own.”

 

“Noelle doesn’t have to help,” Moira snaps. “She doesn’t have to bring them back, she does that all on her own. I keep killing, and she keeps bringing them back, and maybe one of these times she’ll understand what she did to me when she didn’t save our-.” Her eyes widen and she snaps her mouth shut and Audrey has her.

 

“Your father,” she says softly. “She didn’t save your father, did she? She let him die.” Moira says nothing. “Your father was the only person you had in the world, and she let him die.” Audrey sees Moira’s jaw clench, her fingers twist into knots. “The man out there, the man you saw get shot? He’s the only person I have.” She hears her voice break, but she’s beyond caring. “He is… he believes in me. He loves me. He made this place my home. And if I lose him…” There are tears on her cheeks and her chest aches unbearably. “I know Noelle didn’t save your father,” she whispers. “But please, let her save Nathan. _Please_.”

 

There’s a long pause, and then Moira nods.

 

And then Audrey is yelling Claire’s name because it was _Tommy_ but they’re both there already, Audrey’s gun in Tommy’s hand to Claire’s head and jeezus _fuck_ if she looses them both she doesn’t think she’ll survive this day. She won’t.

 

And then Tommy is across the room, a bullet in the ceiling and Duke on top of him and Audrey catches Claire as she falls, hair singed where the bullet had sliced.

 

“Are you okay?” she demands hysterically, holding Claire at arms length to check if she’s breathing or bleeding or-

 

“I’m fine, Audrey,” Claire answers shakily. “I’m okay.” Audrey sinks to the ground, legs giving out under the weight of everything, thinks of Nathan getting shot by his own officer and throws up all over the floor. Claire has a hand on her shoulder and Duke is beating Tommy to a pulp with silver eyes and Nathan is laying dead on the couch and everything is so _wrong_ that Audrey can’t breathe, can only retch and gag on air.

 

Everything slows and stops spinning and rights itself, eventually, in fits and spurts the way everything has been since _Nathan_ … Audrey wipes her mouth and stands, or tries to, ends up collapsed back against Claire.

 

“Noelle,” she states dully. “I need to find Noelle, I need to, I can’t let Nathan die Claire I can’t I need him I _need_ him…”

 

“I know,” Claire soothes, one arm around Audrey keeping her upright. The therapist’s voice is still a little shaky and Audrey knows she should be more sensitive because she’d just been almost shot but Nathan is _dead,_ and nothing else can matter. Nothing. Audrey takes Claire’s free hand in hers, clinging tightly, and Claire grips back painfully. “We’re okay,” the brunette murmurs. Audrey had no idea who she’s trying to convince.

 

Duke is covered in blood and his eyes are still a little silver when he approaches. Moira emerges from behind the couch, takes one look at him and pales. “You know where Noelle is?” Duke asks, voice rough and dangerous, and the woman nods mutely. “Good. Take us.”

 

Audrey struggles to her feet and turns to Claire. “I need you to stay here,” she tells her. “I need someone I trust with Nathan.” Claire nods, her gaze travelling to Tommy.

 

“Is he…”

 

“He’s alive,” Duke monotones. “But he’ll be out for awhile. I’ll tie him up.” Claire nods again.

 

Nathan looks cold, so Audrey brings another blanket to cover him, kneeling down to take his hand. “I’m going to find Noelle,” she whispers to him. “I’m going to save you, Nathan. Maybe I can’t fix you, but…” Her throat closes over and she can’t speak, just presses her lips to his forehead, hovers there a moment before pulling back. And sits there until she can speak, because these words are important. These words are more than just incomprehensible letters strung together.

 

“I have always loved you,” she murmurs, hand on his cheek. “I’m not letting you die, Nathan.” And the world settles, then, eases into a calm that should probably scare her but doesn’t, somehow.

 

She stands, turns to Duke. “Let’s go.”

 

***

_there are no flowers, no not this time_  
 _there will be no angels gracing the lines_  
 _just these stark words i find_  
 _i'd show a smile but i'm too weak_  
 _i'd share with you could i only speak_  
 _just how much this hurts me_

***

 

Nathan opens his eyes and Audrey’s heart stops.

 

He whispers her name and it’s beating far too fast.

 

Her arms are around him and the world just _explodes_.

 

 

*** _  
_  
 _we held hands on the last night on earth_  
 _our mouths filled with dust_  
 _we kissed in the fields and under trees_  
 _screaming like dogs and bleeding dark into the leaves_

_it was empty on the edge of town but we knew_  
 _everyone floated along the bottom of the river_  
 _so we walked through the waste where the road curved into sea_  
 _and the shattered seasons lay_  
 _and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease_  
 _in our cancer of passion you said_  
 _"death is a midnight runner"_

***

 

The sun sets in Haven at 7:47. She disappears in nineteen days. Her name has six letters, and so does his. Letters that are insignificant except in a certain order, spoken from his mouth to hers. Groaned into her shoulder, as his fingers skim across her back and she counts each touch, memorizes the feel of his skin on hers, his flesh pressed inside her.

 

She counts each breath and wonders how many more she’ll feel before her last.

 

“Audrey,” he whispers. She traces her fingers down his chest – two bullet holes. His fingers trace two tears on her cheeks. Ten fingers each. Four arms and four legs so entwined she can’t tell them apart.

 

“I love you,” she chokes, three words and eight letters that are so much more than any of their sums, so much more than a meaningless collection of symbols. The bolt-gun killer and his pieces of a woman, as though she could simply be broken down into body parts. Letters and numbers. Cycles and repetitions and patterns. All pulled together in countless combinations just to try to recreate _this_ , this perfect moment, this perfect _existence_ so neatly quantified in three words and eight letters and three syllables.

 

“I love you, too,” he breathes into her hair, and breaks the rules all over again.

 

 

***

_you said "the cinders are falling like snow"_  
 _there is poetry in despair and we sang with unrivaled beauty_  
 _bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence_  
 _of blue and grey_

_strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names_  
 _in the flesh of the city_  
 _the sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon_  
 _and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines_

_still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward_  
 _and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation_  
 _scratched into the earth like a message_

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love =)


End file.
